which_chick | (no subject) (Reply)

Actually, isn't the proletariat them that did all the work without getting any of the profits, the exploited working class? I'm not exploiting those. I'm actually exploiting proles (from Orwell's 1984, the ones who didn't work and just played the lotto while living on government handouts.) It's not that I don't WANT to exploit the working class -- honestly, I am a Republican and all -- but generally, they aren't anywhere near as exploitable as the proles.

Anyway. On to the exploiting. Today, I got to snake Melva's toilet again. It now flushes, but I don't think it's right because the snake won't go all the way down it all the time. If I have to pull the toilet again (we've done that once already this year) because it's got something stuck down it, she's gonna pay me twenty bucks. We told her, LAST TIME we pulled the toilet, that if we had to come do it again and it had something stuck down it that it SHOULD NOT HAVE STUCK DOWN IT, it would cost her twenty dollars. Now, Melva doesn't have twenty dollars from one week's end to the next. This shouldn't be a problem, though, because under normal use, toilets do not need to be unattached from the floor and turned upside down so that one may poke through the wet toilet paper and shit from the bottom end to find the mashed up Barney toothbrush jammed in the fucking thing. I've had a toilet in my own home for ten years and I have not ever had to pull it out of the floor, turn it upside down, and root through its guts to make it flush again. That sort of foolishness is above and beyond the call of duty. If Melva persists in behaviors that require me to uproot the toilet, she can damn well support my elitist coffee habit..

Last time this happened, it was an unwatched toddler what did it. Melva said, "I can't watch him all the time". I said, "Melva, you have spent the vast bulk of your life sucking nourishment from the public teats of the great red, white, and blue sow. It's not like you work for a living. What else do you have to do with your time besides keeping the boy from flushing inappropriate items?" Well, actually, I didn't say that.

I don't ever say things like that... but when I'm standing on shit-scented water in Melva's bathroom, trying to divine what the hell she's done to the toilet this time, I have to exercise more restraint than most people think I have to avoid saying things like that.

The rest of the day was uneventful. Mt. Willow is gone now and the woodpile is correspondingly bigger. This is a good thing because we're getting Mt. Red Oak tomorrow morning. The dead trees at Bob F's were deemed hazardous by the power company, who cut them down for free today. Bob called to see how long we wanted the pieces because the power company was apparently willing to cut to suit. I thought that was nice of them, but I won't know how nice until I see what the wood looks like tomorrow. (I have fairly high standards for firewood cutting.) Anyway, I stacked what was left of Mt. Willow this evening so that there would be room for Mt. Red Oak on the morrow.

I was dripping wet (with sweat, people, with sweat. This isnt' *that* sort of blog at all.) when I got done with the woodpile, so I took a shower. The first of the flavored soaps (mango and something else) was delightful and lived up to my expectations, so yay!